


Supernatural After Dark

by krazyk2314



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, NSFW, Oral Sex, Reader Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform, more to come - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2019-10-13 12:57:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17488460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazyk2314/pseuds/krazyk2314
Summary: This is where I'm going to put all of my Supernatural Smut Stories. Written mainly for my SpnKinkBingo. Please be kind, I haven't written much of this before.





	1. A Parting Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Jensen Ackles x Reader  
> Warnings: oral sex, blow job. Semi public blow job(kinda)

Sneakers squeaking across the wet pavement, you kept Jensen’s hand tightly encased in your own. A smirk tilted to one side, butterflies swarming your belly at the thought of what laid ahead. “Y/N?” Jensen called out, slowing down as he realized your destination. “The bunker studio? It’s probably locked.”  
“That’s why I took this,” you winked, holding up one of the extra keys. “They didn’t even blink an eye!”  
“Y/N, but you….we aren’t…,” Jensen stuttered as you unlocked the door. “Listen, I know it feels like we own the place, but even we aren’t really supposed to be here tonight.”  
Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you stepped closer to him, your chest barely brushing his. “Since when are you afraid of breaking the rules a little?”   
Sighing, his hands slipped down your side, holding tight to your waist. “You know I’ll do anything for you. But we spend so much time in this place anyways…,”  
“Trust me,” you insisted, pushing the door open and stepping into the darkened library of the bunker. “Can you imagine if we really lived here? If this was our library? Or the living room?”  
“I wouldn’t mind. As long as that means we can finally move in together.”  
“You know that I want that too. Just as soon as…,”  
“Yeah, I know. Just as soon as we make our relationship official. Which we could do at any time. I’m fine with that,” Jensen assured you, walking around the table, following your movements.   
“It’s too soon. Fans will hate me and I don’t want to…,” you pleaded, your plan disappearing as negative thoughts clouded your mind.   
Jensen reached you, grasping your shoulders and holding you tight so you could do nothing but stare up at him. “Fine, we won’t say anything,” he assured you. “But I also want you to realize that is not going to happen. Fans love you, and I happen to know for a fact that they’ve shipped us together. We’d make their dreams come true.”  
“Really?”  
Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against yours, the rough hair of his five o’clock shadow tickling your cheeks. “Well I was going to surprise you in the kitchen, but the library is just as good.”   
Raising an eyebrow, he watched as you pushed one of the thick wooden chairs away from the table. “Surprise? What surprise?”   
“I just knew I wouldn’t be seeing you for almost a month and I wanted to give you something to think about while you’re back in sunny Texas and I’m left up here in the cold.”   
Leading him over to the chair, you pushed on his shoulders. Normally you wouldn’t be strong enough to move a tall, strong man like Jensen. But you could see he was interested in what you were doing, so he was going to follow along. Falling backward, he hit the wooden chair with a thud, his knees splayed exactly as you wanted.   
You couldn’t see the excitement in his eyes, but you could feel the taughtness of his thighs as you knelt down in front of the chair. His hands were clasped on the arms of the chair, digging in slightly as he waited for your next move. You could just hear the slight hitch in his breath as you settled in between his legs, your hands just resting on his upper thighs. “Y/N, are you sure you want to start this here?”   
“What better place,” You asked, your hand moving up the faded denim of his jeans, feeling him twitch underneath. “Then the place I first saw you.”  
Leaning back, he arched his hips a little bit, enough to tell you to get the show on the road. Smiling, you moved your hand, brushing against him as you reached for the button of his pants. Sucking in a breath, Jensen stayed still as you slid the zipper down, surprised at the lack of cloth inside. “Are you going commando?”   
Grunting, he barely nodded his head. “You pulled me out of my trailer at four in the morning. What did you expect?”  
“You were sleeping nude? In your work trailer?”   
“I was hoping someone would come join me, not pull me away into the cold night,” he grumbled. “But I’m not complaining.”  
“You shouldn’t be,” you insisted. With his help, you slid his jeans down to his ankles, his length already hard and ready. Licking your lip, you slid your hands along his thighs once again, the muscles tensing with the movement. Ignoring his cock, you kept your hands splayed on his thick thighs, leaning down to mouth the soft skin of his inner thighs.   
Dean groaned deep, no doubt frustrated, but you wanted to take this slow. To give him something to remember while you were separated. Moving your hand up, you wrapped your hand around his sizeable girth, tight enough to have him groaning as you glanced up at him. In the darkened room, you couldn’t see his hooded gaze, the way his plump lips were parted. But you had seen it before, and you had that look memorized.   
“Please,” he pleaded. Tilting your head forward, your hair tickling his thighs, you brushed your lips against the crown, smoothing the drop of precum around. Just enough to drive him absolutely crazy. He grumbled low in his throat, his hands lifting off of the chair, but you shook your head. “You’re driving me crazy,” he growled, gripping the chair tight enough that his knuckles had to be white.   
Deciding to put the poor man out of his misery, you slid your hand up and down his cock, once, twice, your grip tight before sinking your mouth over the tip. Immediately hit with the salty taste of him, you ran your tongue along the underside, down the long vein and back up. Moving your hand down, you gently squeezed his sac. Breathing through your nose, you took him as deep as you could, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.   
Coming back up for air, you smiled up at him even though he probably couldn’t see it. Moving your hands to rest back on his thighs, you went back to work, moving up and down his shaft, stopping to let him feel the warmth of your mouth.   
The sounds Jensen made went straight to your core, your panties turning wet, but you could wait. This was all about him, giving him pleasure. Letting him rest heavily on your tongue, your mouth tight around his cock, you could feel him tighten, knowing he was close. Reaching down, you played with his sac, as you took him a little deeper in your mouth. Groaning loud enough to echo in the empty room, Jensen lifted his hips off of his chair as he came into your mouth. Trying to swallow as much as possible, you felt some dribble down your chin before you pulled away with a plop. Wiping your chin, you moved to pull his pants up when he stopped you.  
“We’re stopping at that?” He asked and you nodded.  
“People are going to be moving around soon. And this was all for you, don’t worry about me,” you assured him, but he was already standing up, pulling his pants up. Reaching down, he picked you up, placing you in the chair, and you could barely see the white of his teeth as he grinned at you. “I’m not leaving you for a month without tasting you one more time,” he insisted, taking your spot in front of the chair.


	2. Ruined Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Dub-con. Knife Play

The cold bite of the metal dug into your ankles and wrists. The cotton stuffed into your mouth scraped against your teeth, making drool dribble down your chin. Your head ached from the knot that had formed on your temple. Blood trickled down your head, drying and pulling at your skin.

But none of that mattered. What mattered was sitting in front of you. A sight you had wanted to see for so long. But not this way. Never this way.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” he spoke, leaning forward, placing his hands on his knees, a smile on his face. But it wasn’t Dean’s smile. It was malicious and evil, telling you without words that you were in for a lot of pain. “I hope you’ve missed me.”

“You’re not my Dean,” you spat. “You’re a Demon. Everything I loved about Dean is gone.”

Standing up, Dean stalked around your chair, the predator in every single movement, his eyes unreadable in the darkened room. “Not everything you loved is gone.”

Reaching down, he rubbed the back of his knuckles along your cheek. Flinching away, you fought another part of you that recognized the feel of those knuckles against your skin. Wishing for more.

“I don’t care what you say. I know you’ve missed me. The way I made you feel. The things I did to make you scream. You want him back, and I bet you’d let me do about anything to you, just to feel these hands on your skin once again.”

His words hit close to him, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. Trying to calm your beating heart, you stared ahead, past the chair he had vacated, to the simple wooden door blocking your chance at freedom. Trying to ignore just how close he was. How you wanted to pull him towards you but push him away at the same time.

His lips ghosted against the skin of your ear, his words sending shivers down your spine. “I could make you feel good. Make you remember what it was to let go and forget. Would you like that?”

“Dean, Sam, and I...we want to help you. To save you,” you started again, your words easily angering him. Reaching out, he grasped your neck, forcing you to look at him.

“I don’t want to be saved!” He screamed, his eyes flashing black with rage. “I am finally free. Why can’t you understand that?”

“Because it can’t be,” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“I can make you remember,” he calmed down. “And I can make you forget.”

The calloused skin of his lips brushed against your neck, as his hands slid from your neck. Caught up in the feeling of his lips against your skin, you missed the movement as he flicked his fingers together. Suddenly your clothes were gone, leaving you naked and shivering tied to the wooden chair still. “There, that’s better,” he muttered, smiling. “Are you ready?”

“Please don’t,” you pleaded, hating the fact that your voice broke. “I’ll just leave and…,”

Leaning down, his mesmerizing green eyes just inches from yours, he placed his callused finger on your lips. “I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t think you want to leave either. You’ve missed this.”

Moving his hand slowly from your lips, he pressed his thumb to your temple. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to ready yourself for the pain. Not at all ready for the memories that flashed through your mind. Dean’s green eyes smiled down at you. You were laying on his memory foam mattress, his knuckles running softly up and down your skin. His gaze followed every movement before he leaned down, taking a nipple gently in his mouth, running his tongue along the pebbled skin. Reaching down, you threaded your fingers through his, arching into his mouth as his other hand slipped down….

Pain, like a red hot poker, ripped through your skin, instantly pulling you from the heady memories. Eyes snapping open, you glanced down in horror as Dean pulled the tip of the knife from your thigh, watching with glee as blood dripped down. “What the…?”

“I had thought you would be missing his touch,” he muttered, cocking his head to one side. “But I didn’t realize how starved you would be for it.”

“Leave me alone,” you pleaded.

Wiping the blade on his jeans, he shook his head. “No sweetheart, the fun is just getting started. I can’t wait for you to see what I have in mind.”

Shaking your head, your body trying to catch up with the change of emotions. How quickly you had turned from aroused to scared and hurt. “This will be fun. Well, it will be for me.”

Reaching up, you tried to pull away, but he grasped your head, making you remember. This time you were in the Impala. Dean had pulled the Impala into some abandoned truck stop, away from the sight of the road. Dean was laying on the backseat, his eyes hooded over as you rode him. His hands were on your waist, holding you tight to him as you threw your head back, getting lost in the feel of him moving deep inside you. “You look stunning,” Dean whispered, his hands moving from your hips to cup your swaying breasts. “You feel amazing.”

“Keep doing that,” you ordered, moving your hands to cover his, rocking into his grip as his cock filled you to the brim.

“You feel so good,” you told Dean. “I love the feel of your hands against my skin. The rough calluses against my breasts.”

“I can make you feel even better,” Dean whispered. “I know how much you miss Dean touching you like that. Let me touch you like that.”

Your eyes snapping open, you saw Dean or the Demon he had become, reaching his hands out, cupping your breasts much like in the memory. Caught between wanting to pull back in fear and arching your back towards him, you trembled, waiting for what he was going to do next.

Cupping your breasts softly, his thumbs brushing against your nipples, he nodded, almost like it was nothing more than a science experiment. “I had forgotten how it felt to have the weight of these in my hands. So warm and soft and heavy. Tell me, have you missed this? Missed having the warmth of my skin against yours?”

“It’s not the same,” you muttered, trying to ignore the way your nipples pebbled as he pulled and tweaked them. Trying not to groan at the familiarity of his hands on your skin. It had been too long, you had missed his touch for so long that your body was responding even though it wasn’t really him. It was frustrating and confusing, and you had to hold yourself back from moaning for more.

“This doesn’t feel the same?” He asked, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth before all you could see was his sandy brown hair as he leaned down. His hands were gone instantly, in their place a warm wet heat. Throwing your head back and squeezing your eyes shut you tried not to react. To ignore the heat pooling low in your belly. Running his tongue around your nipple, he pulled sharply with his teeth and you couldn’t help but cry out. “I was never this rough before, was I?” He mumbled against your skin, reaching up and tweaking the other nipple between his fingers. “I should have been. I think I can make you scream louder than ever.”

“Don’t,” you pleaded. “I don’t want this.”

Pulling away from your breast with a wet plopping sound, he smiled wickedly up at you. “Wanna bet?”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t help the tremble that ran through your body. Partly from fear, from unwanted arousal and from the cold of the room. “I think if I ran my finger through those pretty plump lips down there, it will come back covered wet. What do you think?”

“No!” You screamed, clamping your thighs together as tightly as you could. “Hmm, I think you already know the answer to that question. Shall we have some more fun?”

Reaching up, he placed his hand on your temple once again. The world around you stilled as another memory was forced in front of your mind. One of your favorite memories. You were lounging in Dean’s bed, completely nude and comfortable. Dean was propped on one elbow, staring down at you as he slowly ran his fingertips up and down your skin. “How are you so soft?” He asked, drawing circles on your belly. “Your skin, it’s so soft and beautiful.”

“But it has scars,” you argued. “How can scars be beautiful?”

Staying silent for a moment, he traced one of the mentioned scars, a long, raised scar just above your hipbone. “Because they mean that you are tough and strong, and you survived. You’re still here with me.”

“Dean,” you whispered once he had gone silent again, his fingers brushing the underside of your breast before sliding down. Past your belly button, running the inside of your thigh. Light enough to drive you crazy, wishing and wanting for more.

“This body has survived so much, and I’m always amazed that you’ve decided to share it with me.”

Reaching over, you tilted his head up, his green eyes shining full of love. “Dean, we’ve both been through so much. I’m just glad we have this to make those things disappear.”

Leaning into your touch for a moment, Dean slid down the bed, his fingers brushing against your skin as he settled between your legs. Pressing a kiss to your thigh, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “Are you ready for this?”

The touch against your core was expected, but the feel of a knife against your stomach had you pulling away from the wonderful memory. Gone was the gentle touch as showed you his love. In its place was the press of a knife against your skin, pressing hard enough to draw blood just as Dean slammed his fingers into your dry core.

Screaming out in pain, you tried to pull away, but the chair held you in place. Dean grinned wickedly up at you, his eyes flashing black as curled his finger inside. “I made you scream.”

“You bastard,” you whimpered as he pulled the knife down, creating a wicked looking slice in your skin.

“Will you be able to ever think of Dean’s touch the same ever again?” He asked, pulling his finger out, playing with your nub for a moment as he waited for your answer. “I’ve ruined you, haven’t I?”

“Just kill me and get it over with,” you spat.

Taking the knife away from your belly, he lazily traced it around one breast, then another, and you waited warily for him to dig it into your skin. “I don’t want to kill you. Not yet. This is too much fun.”

As soon as he pressed the tip of the knife into the underside of your breast, he stuffed two fingers knuckle deep, and you let out a blood-curdling scream. “That’s it! That’s what I want to hear.”

Unable to catch your breath, you panted as Dean moved his fingers back and forth. Slick from your memories, Dean had no resistance as he moved his hands back and forth, curling them deep inside you. The knife slid deeper into your skin, blood dripping down your nipple, pooling onto your thigh. “I don’t think I’ve had this much fun in a long time,” he told you gleefully. “How about we move things on a little bit? I know Sam’s going to be here soon, and I can’t wait for him to see the mess I’ve made of you. I haven’t decided if I’ll leave anything left to save, or give him another reason to hate me. What do you think?”


	3. The Professor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean x Reader

“Y/N, five minutes until you’re up!” Your boss yelled, slapping your ass as he pushed past all of the other girls you worked with. Frowning, you wished you could do something about his manhandling. But turning him in would only mean no job for you, and you needed the steady paycheck this place provided.   
Taking a deep breath, you made sure the fuzzy ears were perfectly placed on your head. The collar around your neck was snug, the leather digging slightly into your flesh. The plush black tail was clipped on to your slim boyshorts, underneath the lightly flared black skirt. Black thigh highs clipped into your garter, heels making you at least three inches taller. Your tight black shirt showed off just a hint of the lacy red bra you wore underneath.   
Tonight was the last time you were doing this act. Dismayed when the idea had first been born, you had fallen in love with the kitten routine. It had given you the most tips, men almost falling over themselves as they rushed to purchase your lap dances. With the tips from this week alone, you could afford to pay your rent. Maybe even have a little left over to….  
“Y/N, now!” The stage manager Karen yelled at you, pointing towards the stage. Leaning forward to apply one last coat of lipstick, you walked past the other performers just as Buttons by the Pussycat Dolls started playing.   
Swaying your hips dramatically, you stepped out on the stage, instantly getting cheers and catcalls from your usual patrons. The lights glared straight towards you, making you look good for the audience, but making it hard for you to see them.   
It was easy to work the crowd over. Your routine was completely memorized, coming to you easily and giving your mind time to wander. Reaching behind you and twirling your tail, you finally noticed a new face out in the crowd. Hard to see over the fluorescent lights, you could just make out a handsome face and spiky hair. He looked completely uncomfortable, sitting straight up in his chair, his hand clasped tight around a glass of whiskey.   
Your routine led you to the other side of the stage, and as you shimmied out of your skirt, your mind turned back to that man. Wondering who he was, what he did for a living. If he was married.   
Leaning forward, you let a couple men stuff wads of cash in your boyshorts, turning to shake your rump at them before changing up your routine. Just a little bit. You wanted to get on the floor, to get a closer glimpse of the strange man.   
You could just your boss standing at the bar with his arms crossed, frowning at the change of plans. Stepping off the stage, you undid your top, running it behind your back, pushing your breasts forward, getting the best cleavage you could. It drove the men crazy, and you tossed your top back onto the stage before you began rounding the tables, swaying your hips.   
The mystery man was straight in front of you. Sitting with two other men, his eyes were glued on you. His cup was still clasped in his hand, his plump lips parted. He was wearing a light sweater and dark jeans, looking out of place in the cheesy strip joint. He was even more handsome up close, and for a moment you wished you had met him somewhere else. Maybe at a cafe or library where he would have gotten to know you, not just seen your body in your underwear.   
“Lap dance!” His friend called out, holding out a hundred dollar bill. It wasn’t something that you did, but with your song coming to an end, you looked towards your boss who nodded. Taking the bill and stuffing it into your bra, you got a good look at the man who had requested the dance.   
He was a little taller than his friend, with shaggy dark hair. Dressed a little more casually in jeans and a button up shirt, he was handsome as well. But he didn’t catch your eye, and you were a little disappointed this lap dance was for him. Running your hand along his chest, you began swaying in front of him when he shook his head. “Not for me. For him.”  
He pointed over, making your heart flutter. He was pointing at your mystery man, who had his eyes wide open as he stared your way. Swallowing thickly, you moved around the table, jumping when a hand reached out, slapping your ass. “No touching allowed,” you reminded the man as the bouncer started to move forward.  
“But you’re right here,” the man slurred. “I couldn’t help myself. Give me another little feeling and I’ll make sure you’re….recompensated.”   
Larry, your boss, came forward, and the man quickly settled down. “Y/N, I think you owe this man a lap dance. He’s been waiting patiently.”  
“You know what,” your mystery man started to say, his voice surprisingly deep. “You can keep the money. I’m going to call…,”  
“No, that won’t be necessary sir,” Larry assured the man. “Y/N take this man back to room 1. Give him the dance he paid for.”   
You stared at your boss in shock. Never in the time you had worked here had he suggested taking a person to the back. Not unless they paid an exorbitant amount, and it was usually with Tiffany, who didn’t mind providing special treatment. You had never wanted to, and now…  
“Y/N, now!”   
Gulping, you nodded, staring at the man who was being pushed to his feet by his friends. Reaching down, you took his callused hand in your own, ignoring the catcalls as you walked him past rowdy tables, to the special part of the strip club. The private shows. A place you had never performed right now.  
Pushing open the warm red door, you let him go inside first, amazed at how wonderful he smelled. A mixture of leather, whiskey, and musk. The room reeked of cheap sex. A glass table sat off to the side, velvet tables surrounding it. A leather bench was placed in the middle, facing a wall full of mirrors. You knew for a fact that they were two-way mirrors, your boss often having fun watching his girls dance.   
“Listen, I know you were paid, and your boss wants this to happen, but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he assured you, keeping a good ten feet between you.   
You could have taken the offer. But you had a feeling your boss would know if you didn’t follow through, and you couldn’t afford to lose your job.   
“No, you paid, and I know that I have to go through with this,” you answered him. His eyes were green, you noticed. A deep, vibrant green that you could get lost in. “Not that you’re...I mean…,”  
“I understand,” he said. “Let’s just get this over with, shall we? Where do you want to…,”  
“A chair,” you told him, watching his shoulder muscles flex as he pulled his sweater over his head, leaving him in a simple white t-shirt. Trying to ignore the warmth settling low in your stomach, you grabbed a chair, pulling it to the middle of the room. Slow, seductive music started playing through the speakers, as you gently pushed him into the chair. Leaning back he watched you with hooded eyes. “Now remember. Touching is against the rules.   
Catching yourself in the mirror, you saw the tail swirling behind you, your boy shorts riding high on your cheeks. Your breasts swelled over the cups of your bras, and your kitten ears were perched off to the side. Your face was flushed, and you knew it wasn’t just from your dance. You were attracted to this man. A man you didn’t even know.   
Swaying your hips in time to the beat, you ran your hands up and down your sides, lightly cupping your breasts and lifting them before turning your back towards him. Swaying your hips even more now, you moved between his legs, bending over enough to give him a great show of your booty. He groaned, and you could see his hands clasped on his thighs, no doubt trying hard not to touch you.   
“I bet you wish you could run your hands all over me,” you teased him, turning back to face him. “To take those large hands, and run them all along my skin. Reaching behind you, you undid the clasp of your bra, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. “You’re probably wishing you could do this right now, aren’t you?”  
Moving your hands up, you cupped your aching breasts, letting the weight of them settle into your palms, watching as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. Letting go of your breasts, you straddled his legs, your aching core barely pressing against the seam of his jeans. Splaying your hands on his chest, you began moving your hips, swirling them, not grinding down. Not yet. His hands hung to the side, curled into fists as you moved over the top of him. His chest was solid under your hands, and you slid them down, moving back up just as you sank down onto his lap, grinding your core against his impressive bulge.   
“How does that feel? It feels good, doesn’t it?” You muttered, closing your eyes and leaning your head back. Moving your hips back and forth, the zipper of his jeans rubbing deliciously against your wet panties, you couldn’t contain the moan that slipped past your lips.  
“Are your lap dances usually like this?” He asked, his voice deep and strained.   
“No, not at all,” you gasped, reaching up to tweak your nipples, wishing it was his hands. Needing more, knowing that you couldn’t have it. Not in here. Leaning forward, you changed the angle, feeling his hips bucking up to meet yours. Your lips brushed against his ear as your hands found his nipples, lightly pulling on them through the thin fabric of his shirt.  
“You’re killing me,” he groaned. “I don’t know how much more I can take.”   
Pressing down as hard as you could against the bulge in his jeans, you knew you were close. With your hands kneading and moving your breasts and the feel of him underneath you, you threw your head back, screaming out into the empty room as you came, untouched.   
Blinking your eyes, you slid off of his lap, seeing a wet spot on his jeans, an impressive bulge straining the zipper. “Listen, I know we don’t even know each other. But the moment I saw you out there, I felt this connection. Do you want to get out of here?”   
“I don’t even know your name,” you argued, blushing at the fact that you had just gotten yourself off with a strange man.   
Standing up, he reached down and adjusted himself. “My name’s Dean Winchester. I teach engineering at the local college. That was my brother out there who bought me the lap dance. He thought I needed to loosen up. And I’m going to have to thank him for that. So, what do you say?”


	4. A New Place with Those You Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danneel/Gen/Reader

It was all starting to come together. Your new furniture was being delivered tomorrow, but everything else seemed to be going smoothly. The appliances had been delivered yesterday, looking so wonderful in your new kitchen.   
It was exciting. Your first real home. All to yourself. You could decorate it however you wanted. Paint it any color you chose. Hell, you could walk around naked if you wanted.   
Lost in thought, you didn’t hear the knock on the door until it grew louder, one of your favorite people yelling at you from behind it. “Y/N damn it, it’s raining out here! Let us in!”   
Just hearing Danneel complaining had you racing to the door, throwing it open to let them inside. Sure enough, it was raining like crazy outside and both Dani and Gen were pushed up as close to the door as possible. “Wow, when did that happen?” You asked, letting them inside before slamming the door shut.  
“Well, if you’d leave this amazing apartment for a moment or two, you would have noticed,” Gen teased, turning in a circle. “Wow, it’s even better than you described.”   
“Isn’t it?” You answered proudly, finally noticing the outfits they were wearing. Danneel had her hair in two braids, a pair of paint-spattered overalls and a tank top underneath. Gen was wearing a pair of ripped jeans, an old t-shirt, her hair thrown up in a messy bun. “Guys, what’s up?”   
They looked at each other, that mischevious, planning look that you had come to know so well. “Well, Dani and I had a talk. You knew our feelings about this move.”  
“I thought we had already talked about that. I’ll still spend a lot of time at your place. And it’s only a ten-minute drive. I just really wanted…,” you started to argue, but Danneel held up her hand.   
“We know, we know. We both understand how important a place of your own can be. And however much we hate not having you by our side, we want you to know we will support whatever you want. So we’ve come to help you paint.”  
Grateful to your friends, you grabbed their hands, squeezing tight. “Thank you. You don’t know how much it means to have the support of the two women I love. I don’t think I could have handled it if you two weren’t on board.”   
Danneel reached over, grabbing you by the belt loops on your shorts, pulling you tight against her. Brushing your messy hair back from your face, she kissed you softly. Tasting lightly of chapstick, her lips were soft and gentle against your own. As soon as you started to reach your arms around her slim waist, she stepped back. “As much as I would love more, I think we having something we need to do first.   
“Yeah, what’s that?” You asked just as Gen held up a paint roller.   
“Painting!” Both women yelled. “You wanted to paint your bedroom, and we wanted to help out.”  
Before you knew it the three of you were in your bedroom. Dani was pouring the light purple paint you had picked while Gen helped you spread the plastic over your wooden floor.   
“I love this room,” Gen sighed. “It’s so open and light. And the window looks over the river. I could spend lots of time in this room.”  
“And you can. As much as you want,” you assured her, reaching over and lightly slapping her ass. Stepping back before she could retaliate.   
“Hey, what about me?” Dani asked her hands on her hips, a smear of purple paint already across her nose.   
Gen walked over to her, cupping her cheek. She had to lightly stand on her tiptoes to reach Danneel’s lips. “These lips aren’t being left out of anything,” Gen assured her. “I can’t wait for the three of us to spend lazy Sundays in here. You did get a big enough bed, right?”   
“Don’t worry, it’s a King,” you told them.   
As you reached down to pick up the paint roller, a sense of pride enveloped you. feeling a sense of pride as you started painting the stark white walls a lovely shade of purple. Gen turned to tape off the trim while Danneel started painting close to the edge. You had music playing on your phone, but nobody really listned to it. The conversation was flowing. Talking about the men up in Vancouver filming. About the children and how they were doing. You talked about the happenings at the brewery. It’s where you worked, and where you had first met these wonderful women who would forever change your life. You told them about the drunk couple who had ended up falling asleep at one of the picnic tables. And the couple who had proposed only yesterday.  
“I needed a day like this,” Gen said while you were halfway through. “A girl’s day. I’ve been so busy training for the marathon, along with the kids that I haven’t really taken any time for things I enjoy. I feel like I’ve neglected the two of you.”  
“How long is your baby sitter going to be there?” You asked, thinking quickly.   
“Well, it’s the grandparents and they have the kids for the night,” Gen said, turning to stare at you with the paintbrush in her hand still.   
“Same here. I promised Jensen’s parents they could have the kids as long as they wanted,” Danneel explained. “I wasn’t sure how long this was going to take, or what we would do afterward.”  
“Does pizza and beer sound good? My TV is up and running.”  
“Sounds like heaven,” Gen groaned. “I’ve been eating so healthy lately, and it’s killing me.”  
You had to admit, she was looking trimmer than ever. Her waist seemed even smaller, her legs more toned and muscular. She looked absolutely amazing, and you knew it had been too long since you had spent much time with either her or Danneel. “I can tell. You look absolutely amazing.”   
“Well, I’m tired of it,” she insisted.   
“Dani, will you call it in?” You asked. “Gen and I will finish up in here.”  
Danneel disappeared into the living room while you helped Gen peel off the tape. The walls were completely done, looking shiny and fresh, but smelling absolutely horrible. Leaving the window open, you took the paintbrush, cleaning it up in the bathroom while Gen tidied up the rest.   
“Y/N, this looks absolutely like you,” she said leaning against the door frame. Her shirt had new paint spots on it, her cheek covered in drying paint. Taking a makeup wipe, you stepped close to her, lightly brushing at her smooth skin, ridding it of the purple. “I can’t wait to see it with all the furniture.”  
“I think you’ll love it,” you said softly. “My bed is huge, the headboard soft gray leather. I have a gray dresser, but I need to get the rest. Was hoping maybe the two of you would help me out?”   
“We’d love to,” Danneel said from your bedroom doorway. “I’m always up for furniture shopping. But pizza is on its way.” 

An hour later the three of you were lounging on the couch, an empty pizza box in front of you, a six pack of beer long since emptied. The TV had never been turned on, not needed when you were in the company of the two women you loved more than anything.   
“I can’t believe the two of you did that!” You exclaimed. “How the hell did you go skinny dipping in the lake and not get caught? What were you thinking?”  
“We were drunk, and it was hot,” Gen argued. “It was like three o’clock in the morning, and nobody was around. At least we thought so. Until the security guy steered his boat around. We were almost caught.”   
Leaning back against Danneel, you chuckled lightly. “That would have been quite the site. I wish I had been there.”   
Rubbing her hand up and down your arm, Dani sighed. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”   
Gen was leaning back against the pillow, her eyes slightly closed, barely holding on to the empty beer bottle. She looked mesmerizing, and you wanted to feel her lips against yours more than anything else you could think of.   
Danneel was just as caught up in the way Gen looked, giving you a reassuring nod, reading your mind. Squeezing her hand, you slid away from her, making your way across the couch before Gen even glanced your way. Taking the beer bottle away from her hand, you set it down on the coffee table. “Hmm?” She asked softly, turning her head languidly towards you, smiling softly.   
“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, kneeling down next to her, capturing her soft lips with your own before she could reply. It was easy to get lost in the feel of her lips against your own. Without breaking the kiss, you straddled her lap, wrapping your hands in her thick hair. Her hands found their way down to your waist, just skimming under your t-shirt. Parting her lips, she ran the tip of her tongue across your, seeking access.  
Sighing against her mouth, you leaned back, just far enough to reach down and grab the hem of her t-shirt, pulling it up over her head. Her breasts swelled over the cups of her simple black bra, just begging for your attention. Struggling to decide between her succulent lips or perky breasts, your decision was made when Danneel came up beside the two of you. “As much as I like watching, I don’t want to be left out anymore.”   
Her hand was still speckled with paint as she cupped Gen’s cheek, turning her attention away from you. Leaning back, the back of your thighs flush with Gen’s, you watched as Dani ruthlessly plundered Gen’s lips. Where you were gentle, Dani was forceful. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it. It was part of her draw.   
“Are you just going to sit there?” Dani asked, her lips moist as she pulled away for a moment. Without waiting for an answer, Dani turned her attention back to Gen and her lips. Leaning forward, a little awkwardly, you pressed open-mouthed kisses along the skin showing above the cups of her bra. Gen arched forward, and you reached behind her, easily undoing the clasp before tossing her bra behind you.  
“Both of you. You’re dressed too much,” Gen panted, her eyes lidded, her lips swollen. “Y/N..,”  
Her hand slid down to the hem of your shirt, and you helped pull it up over your head. Dani had already undone the straps of her overalls, tossing her tank top over the side of the couch, her breasts bouncing slightly with the movement. Unable to help yourself, you reached over, cupping one generous breast, brushing the nipple with your thumb.   
Gen leaned forward, undoing the clasp of your bra, throwing it behind her head. “Beautiful,” she repeated your word, running her hands up and down your sides.   
Danneel stood up, moving away from your touch to tug her overalls down her hips, leaving her in nothing more than a scrap of lace. Grasping your hand, she pulled you to your feet, she undid the button of your shorts, her skin soft against yours as she pulled them down. Gen had already shimmied out of her jeans, surprising you at the fact she was going commando.   
Gen took charge, pushing you down on the couch, rearranging you until you were situated how she wanted. Leaning back against the armrest, one leg hanging over the edge, comfortable and waiting for their next move. Gen settled in between your legs, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. Her hands soft and cool against your heated skin, she slid her fingers under the elastic of your panties, pulling them down. Lifting your legs, you helped her until they were laying on the floor, leaving you bare to both her and Danneel.   
“So beautiful,” she said, pressing her lips to your thigh. Repeating the action on your other leg, smiling at the goosebumps she created. Dani had knelt down by the couch, moving up by your head, brushing your hair back from your cheek.   
“I have to agree,” she told Gen, her hand lingering on your cheek. “She is absouletly stunning.”  
You started to reply, wanting to tell them how beautiful you thought they both were, but the words were overtaken by the feel of Gen’s lips brushing against your inner thigh, her slim finger running through your folds. Your gasp was swallowed up as Dani moved her hand down, gently running her finger around your nipple, smiling as the bud tightened. “I love how responsive you are,” she purred, rubbing the bud between her fingers, capturing your lips for a heated kiss.   
“So responsive,” Gen agreed, massaging your clit with her finger before wrapping her tongue around it.   
You arched your back, your moan caught in Danneel’s kiss. With Gen driving you crazy, you reached out, grabbing Danneel and pulling her closer, needing to hang onto something. Giggling, Dani pulled away. “Hmm, I think I’m ready for a ride,” she announced, lazily squeezing your breast. Dani leaned over you, her lips ghosting over yours once again. You were caught in the middle, wanting to pull her down and deepen the kiss, but you were also squirming against Gen’s mouth, her finger brushing against your wet entrance, her tongue brushing up against your bundle of nerves. Closing your eyes, you rotated your hips, needing more, missing the fact that Danneel had placed a hand on the back of the couch. Pulling away, she smiled down at you before lifting her leg, straddling your chest. “Are you okay with this?” She asked, her hands on the armrest behind you, and you nodded, knowing exactly what she meant.   
Gen slid one finger inside your warm heat as Dani moved forward, settling her thighs around your head, her glistening cunt above your mouth. Squeezing around Gen’s finger, you licked a line up Dani’s folds, her sweet taste exploding on your lips.   
Caught between the two women, you knew there was no place you would rather be. Danneel’s thighs tight on your head, you could hear her moans as she rode your face, your tongue brushing her entrance. Gen added another finger, tugging your clit between her teeth, and you cried out against Danneel’s pussy, coming undone. Danneel ground down against your face, as she came with a shout.   
Coming down from her high, she slid down, letting you take in a deep breath, cuddling against your side. Gen laid her head against your belly, and you ran your hand through her hair. “Once I catch my breath shall we move this to the guest bedroom? I do have a mattress in there.”   
Dani nodded, glancing down at Gen. “I think that sounds wonderful. After all, I don’t want Gen to feel left out.”


	5. Black Eyes and Rough Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Demon Dean x Reader  
> Warnings: Spanking, slightly dub con

Callused fingers brushed against your cheek while chapped lips pressed softly to your forehead. “There’s my girl,” a familiar deep voice rumbled close to your ear. Blinking your eyes, you stared up into the most amazing green eyes you had ever seen. A bright, emerald green with specks of golds. They held so much love for you in their depths.   
“Dean, what are you…,” you started to say, but he placed his finger on your lips, silencing you.   
“Shh, you’re okay. It was just a dream,” he whispered, sitting down softly on the plush mattress beside you.   
Trying to clear the dry taste from your mouth, you moved to sit up, glancing around the strange room in unease. “Where are we?”   
Dean reached over to the end table, picking up a glass of water, handing it to you. “Don’t you remember? We barely escaped those ghouls. They almost took you from me.”  
You tried remembering back to the hunt, trying to figure out what Dean was talking about. But your mind was fuzzy, and you could barely remember anything past waking up this morning. “Why can’t I remember?”   
Standing up, Dean moved over to the table where breakfast was already made up and waiting for you. “Feel the back of your head. Feel that nasty bruise? That was a parting present from those bastards.”   
Dean picked up the tray, bringing it over and setting it across your lap. Glancing down, you saw toast and oatmeal. Pancakes with syrup and blueberries. Both coffee and orange juice were offered, and a blood red rose sat in a crystal rose vase.   
“All of this? Just for me?”   
“You need to regain your strength,” Dean insisted, reaching down and plucking a piece of toast.   
It took you a moment to decide where you wanted to start. Pouring syrup over the pancakes, you were about to dig in when the fork paused halfway to your mouth. “We need to call Sam!”  
Dean froze in mid-bite, his hand clenched to his side. “Why?”  
You moved to take the tray off your lap, but Dean was already pushing you back. “He might be worried about us? Did he go on the hunt too?”   
“Don’t worry about Sam!” Dean growled his mouth deep in a snarl. It was a look unlike anything you had ever seen on Dean’s face and you sunk back into the pillow in fear.   
The snarl quickly faded on his face and he sat down beside you once again, reaching up to brush the hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. But Sam is fine. I’ve already talked to him, and he’s not worried. I told him we were taking a day or so to relax.”   
Comforted by his words, you grasped him by the wrist, pressing a kiss to the soft skin there. “I’m sorry. I know you’re probably just as exhausted from the hunt as I am. I just…,”  
“Eat. We’ll relax. You’ll feel better. I’ll feel better.”  
You followed Dean’s orders, picking up your fork once again, taking a bite of the buttery pancakes. Wondering why you still had this feeling that something felt off. “Dean,” you started gently, watching as he settled down in the chair across from you, bathed in shadows. He held a glass of amber liquid in one hand, the stolen toast laying forgotten on the end table. “Why can’t I remember anything before this morning?”   
He took a sip of his drink, staying quiet for a moment before answering. “That bump on your head is nasty. Give it time, you’ll probably start remembering things soon enough.”   
You knew he was right, but you still hated the fact that you couldn’t remember the hunt for yourself. Taking a sip of coffee, you tried to calm this feeling, telling yourself you were just being too paranoid.  
Dean stood up, setting his empty glass on the dresser before grabbing his coat. “You eat up, I’ll be back shortly.”  
As he started to leave, you glanced around, looking for the usual black bag that you brought with you on every hunt. You wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a change of clothes. “Dean, where’s my bag?”   
He turned to face you, his hands clasped tight at his sides. “What is with all the questions? Do you not trust me?”   
It was the second time of the day he snapped at you. Completely out of character for Dean, and it had you extremely concerned. “I do trust you. I just wanted to take a shower and put on some clean clothes. That’s all.”  
His entire demeanor changed. His shoulders relaxed, his hands unfurling. “Oh that. Your bag...remember I said how we barely escaped the ghouls? Well, we ended up leaving everything back there. I’ll hit the store, grab some of the necessities.”  
Done with breakfast, you placed the tray off to the side. Quietly moving to Dean, you placed your hand softly on his stubbled cheek. “Dean, I love you.”  
You didn’t say it very much. Neither of you did. You weren’t into the emotional exchanges, the mushy words. Dean knew you loved him, and you knew he loved you as well. The words didn’t need to be spoken to understand that. But things will a little rough and on edge this morning, and you wanted him to have that little assurance.   
You waited for a response. A smile, a kiss. Anything to let you know he heard and reciprocated the words. A twitch of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes before he awkwardly patted you on the back. “I’ll be back,” he mumbled before quickly exiting the room.   
With Dean gone, you sat back down on the bed, picking at the breakfast. But it was cold, and you were no longer hungry. It had been thoughtful of Dean, to get you such a nice breakfast. Maybe you were being a touch too paranoid. Setting the tray on the table, you began pacing around the room. Your head ached, but you were too antsy to sit still and wait for Dean to return. The hotel room was much like any other you had stayed at with Dean on a hunt. Water stained the ceiling, and cobwebs hung in the corner. The vinyl on the bathroom floor was stained and grimy. The comforter was probably the cleanest thing in the entire room, a bright cheery blue. Dean had his bag thrown beside the dresser, surprising you. If yours had been lost, shouldn’t his as well? Frowning, you reached down, thumbing through his bag. You quickly spotted the usual things he carried. His favorite shampoo and aftershave. His flannels and t-shirts along with some dirty jeans. Your phone was in there as well, the screen black, no doubt with a dead battery.   
As you rustled about in Dean’s bag for a charger, you noticed that his jeans were crusted with blood as were the shirts. In fact, every single clothing item in his bag was covered with blood. Wondering why, you pulled out the charger, quickly plugging in your phone and turning it on.   
Your phone started buzzing with missed calls and messages. One after another, it was almost a full minute before your phone finally calmed down. Most of them were from Sam, but a couple were from Cas as well.   
Ignoring them, you went ahead and called Sam, figuring it would be best. As you waited for it to ring, you could hear the familiar rumble of the Impala, and you knew you wouldn’t have very long before Dean was back inside.   
“Y/N? Thank God,” Sam exclaimed as soon as he answered. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”   
“Dean said he called you,” you answered quickly. “He told you about the ghoul hunt.”   
You could hear the key turning in the lock, and you were about ready to hang up when Sam’s frantic voice stopped you. “Ghoul hunt? Y/N, you haven’t been on a ghoul hunt…,”  
“Who are you talking to?” Dean growled, making it to your side in an instant. Reaching over, he grabbed the phone from your hand, literally snapping it in two. “Were you digging through my bag?”  
You weren’t afraid of much. You couldn’t be, not as a hunter. But the anger in Dean’s voice, the tight way he held his shoulders had you cowering back. Peering up at Dean, you saw a pair of evil black eyes staring back at you. Blinking furiously, you tried to clear them away, but Dean’s green eyes had turned black. “Dean, you’re a….,”  
He chuckled darkly. “Yeah, a Demon. I wasn’t planning on you finding out like this, but you couldn’t listen, could you?”  
Without even thinking you started to say the exorcism, the Latin words almost second nature to you by now. But as the words slipped past your lips, Dean just smiled darkly, his hand wrapping around your neck. “That’s not going to work on me, sweetheart.”   
Wrapping your hands around his thick wrists, you tugged, trying to free yourself from his tight grasp. “I had this all planned,” he told you. “I was going to woo you. Make you realize that you wanted to be with me no matter what. And then, once I had you nice and mellow, I was going to tell you. Turn you into my own personal...hmm what’s the word? Not slave. But I would have had you by my side, for whatever I needed.”   
You could feel his hand tightening around your neck. Thinking fast, you lifted your leg, kneeing him right in the groin. Not sure it would work on a Demon, you put everything you had into it. Dean fell to the floor, groaning. You took the opportunity to run towards the door, needing to get away from the horror Dean had become.   
“Not so fast,” he was able to say, just as you reached the door. Trying to pull it open, it wouldn’t budge. “I have this room sealed. There is no place for you to go.”  
Your heart racing, you pressed your back against the door. Dean stood up, a little awkward, but none the worse for wear. “Dean, please. I don’t know what’s going on, but just let me go.”  
“Why would I do that?” He asked, his eyes stalking you like prey. “I went through all the trouble of sneaking into the bunker, stealing you out from under Sam’s nose. Hell, I even knocked you out, wiping out part of your memory. I’m not letting you go so easily.”   
You had no idea what to do. There was no place to go to get away from this black-eyed version of the man you loved. You could see that all the love, all the feelings he cared for you were gone, leaving this shell of a man.   
“Don’t be afraid of me,” he told you, holding his hands up, his eyes turning back to green. “I’m sorry I got angry with you. I want this to work.”  
Not knowing what else to do, you took one shaky step forward, and then another. “Dean, you’re a Demon. How can I not be scared fo you?”   
“As long as you do as I say, you have nothing to be afraid of,” he assured you. “I’ve missed you.”  
With no other choice, you took another step closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you. You hoped that this was not a mistake. That Dean’s words were true, that he wouldn’t end up hurting you. It was hard trusting a Demon, but you had little choice otherwise. “There, that’s not too bad. But I will have to punish you for not listening to me.”  
“What?” You exclaimed, stiffening in his arms. “I thought you said you…,”  
“I said you had nothing to be scared of. I have a feeling you’ll enjoy this punishment as much as I will.” Winking at you, he sat down on the edge of the bed. “If you behave like a good little girl, I’ll let you go easily. Just this once, as long as you do as I say.”  
You shook your head quickly, not wanting to anger him as much as possible. Hoping that somehow Sam could trace your phone while it was on, and was already on his way to save you.   
“Good girl. Now come here.”   
You stepped forward, your body stiff as he stared over at you, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Reaching up, he grasped your arm, pulling you down until you were laying over his legs, your head resting on the comforter beside him. “Just relax and take your punishment.”   
Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, waiting for him to start. Knowing exactly what he was going to do. “Lift your hips,” he ordered, and you immediately complied. His hands warm against your bare skin, Dean quickly unbuckled your jeans, sliding them and your underwear down in one move, leaving your bottom half bare to his gaze.  
“I always loved this ass,” he told you, his callused fingers moving gently over the sensitive skin, tracing patterns before sharply smacking it with the palm of his hand. “I can’t wait to see it all red.”  
“Please,” you muttered against the cotton.  
“Please what?” He chuckled. “To stop? Or more? Because I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy this just as much as I am.”   
Dean kneaded the supple flesh of your bottom before once again his skin cracked against yours and you cried out. Rubbing where his hand had just landed, he pressed his other hand flat against your back, holding you still. “Again.”  
Once again the sound of skin hitting skin rang out in the small room, your skin smarting from the harsh slap. But you could also feel a tingling in your lower belly, the excitement and proximity exciting you more than it should have.   
“Shall I see how excited this is making you?” Dean asked, his voice low, almost like he was reading your mind. Sliding his hand down from your heated skin, he slipped his finger through your folds, feeling the glistening wet of your slight arousal. “You are enjoying this, you naughty little girl.”   
“Dean, please,” you tried once again, just as his hand connected with your backside once again, making you groan. Taking the comforter in your hands, you held on as Dean spanked you again and again. Each time rubbing soothing circles on your abused skin. You could feel his erection pressing against your stomach, and you moved slightly, trying to calm that itch deep inside you.  
“Stay still,” Dean ordered, holding tight enough to your hip that you would no doubt have a bruise tomorrow. You did as he said, clenching your thighs together as he spanked you for the fifth, then the sixth time. “If I had known you responded this well, I would have done this a long time ago.”  
By this time you had thrown all sense of decency to the wind. You knew it wasn’t right. Getting so turned on by this. By a Demon no less. But you couldn’t help the ache low in your belly, the wetness dripping down your thigh. “I love how turned on you’re getting. Just shows me that bringing you here was the right move.”  
Your skin red and painful, you moaned as his hand came down hard once again before smoothing the pain away. Leaving his hand on your skin, he trailed it back down, through your soaking wet folds, easily slipping one finger deep inside your channel. “You’re so wet. I think you’d have no qualms with me taking you right now. Does the thought of being with a Demon excite you that much?”   
You couldn’t answer him, because truthfully, you didn’t know. Sliding his finger back out and up, Dean slipped it between his lips, groaning at the taste of you on his skin. And no matter how wrong you knew it was, you knew there was no way you were going to leave him. Not with the promise of amazing things to come.


	6. The Intern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean Smith x Reader

“Miss Y/N?” The secretary called out, pulling your attention from the papers in front of you. “Mr. Smith needs you in his office.”   
You tried to control the smile that wanted to sneak out. You knew you had to keep a professional facade, even though you wanted to run down the short hallway, straight into his large office. Smoothing down your skirt, you walked past the secretary just as the phone rang once again. “Oh and Miss Y/N?” She called out, making you stop for a moment. “I will be out for lunch, so either you or Mr. Smith will have to answer his own phone.”   
“We can do that,” you assured her, taking the papers she handed you before she stood up and left her desk. With her gone, you could feel the anticipation running through your system. Your palms grew damp, your stomach tightened with anticipation.  
You had never expected this to happen. It was just a temporary job at a different company your father owned. He wanted you well versed before you took over for him, running a multi-million company. You hadn’t expected the CEO to be so handsome, so alluring. You had fallen right into his trap, and there was no other place you wanted to be.   
Pushing open the stainless steel doors, you stepped into his office, licking your lips at what waited for you inside.  
“There you are,” Dean spoke up from his desk as you closed and locked the doors behind you. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning.”   
“Too bad you were stuck in that horrid meeting,” you purred, getting a good look at the man that had bewitched you. He had already taken off his suit jacket, leaving him in his light blue shirt, green tie, and suspenders. His shoulder muscles stretched the material tight as he leaned back in his expensive leather chair, his arms crossed.   
“I didn’t pay attention to a word they said. I kept thinking about you, and that promise you gave me last night,” his voice got deep as his eyes glanced over you from your carefully curled hair, down your white button down blouse, to your simple black pencil skirt. “Come here.”  
You didn’t need to be told twice. Dean moved his chair back, his expensive dress slacks bunched up around his powerful thighs. His long fingers wrapped around both arms of the chair, tapping as he waited for you to move in front of him. “On the desk,” he ordered, making no move to help you.   
It wasn’t easy. His desk was expansive, and clambering on top wasn’t the most graceful thing you had done, your skirt making your movements tough. Finally, you were settled on the sleek black desk, your skirt bunched about your thighs. Your legs were parted slightly, your hands resting on your lap as you waited for his next move.   
Dean took his plump bottom lip between his teeth, sitting up in his chair, rolling it slightly forward. “So beautiful,” he whispered. “Let’s see if you followed my directions.”   
His hands were warm and rough as they rested on your thighs, his thumbs barely brushing against your skin. Leaning back, your hands behind you to brace yourself on the desk. Dean’s tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip as his hands slid under your skirt. Taking his index finger, he brushed against your core, smiling wickedly when he met no barrier. “Good girl,” he praised you, moving his hands back out to spread your legs a little farther open. “I wonder what your Dad would say if…,”   
“Please, I don’t want to talk about my Dad right now,” you pleaded, throwing your head back and closing your eyes as Dean slipped one finger through your folds, rubbing it deliciously against your clit.   
Dean chuckled, scooting his chair back the same time that he pushed your skirt the rest of the way up to give him free access. Leaning back until you were resting on your elbows, your legs spread wide, all you could see of Dean was his sandy hair as he replaced his fingers with his mouth. “I’ve been wanting to taste this all morning,” he mumbled into your skin, running his tongue around your responsive little nub. Groaning, you closed your eyes, turning yourself completely over to the feelings Dean was evoking.   
With his teeth gently tugging on your clit, Dean slid one finger inside your channel, and you clenched around him, wanting more. “Greedy girl,” he chuckled, curling it gently. Pulling out to add another finger, he was interrupted by the ringing of his phone.   
You figured he would ignore it. Let it go to voicemail. Looking up at you with your slick coating his chin, he smiled wickedly. “What are you waiting for? Answer it.”   
“Really?” You squealed as both fingers slid home. Dean nodded before lowering his head once again, pulling your little nub of nerves in his mouth. Trying to control the moan that wanted to force it’s way out, you picked up the phone. “Mr….Mr. Smith’s office,” you stuttered as Dean slid his fingers in and out before curling them up in your most sensitive spot.  
“Y/N? Is that you?” Your Dad asked, and you could have died right then and there. You could feel the heat coiling in your lower belly, your muscles clenching around Dean’s fingers as his mouth worked over your clit.   
“Dad!” You called out, much louder than you expected. Dean pulled away for a moment, to smile up at you. “This isn’t...a good...time,” you finished out on a moan, quickly turning it into a cough. Dean suddenly stood up, and you felt empty but relieved. Thinking he was giving you a moment to talk to your father, his boss, you moved to sit up, but Dean pushed you back down, shaking his head.   
“What is going on in there? Y/N, tell me you aren’t causing Mr. Smith any trouble,” your Father grumbled, but you weren’t paying much attention. Your attention was on Dean, who had quickly pull off his suspenders, pulling his pants and underwear around his ankles in one swift motion.   
“No...no trouble,” you squeaked as Dean grabbed your ankles, sliding you down before taking his impressive erection in his hand. You could hear your Dad talking on the other end as Dean lined up with your entrance, sliding deep in one quick move. “Oh my God!” You called out, your Father’s voice concerned on the other end.   
“Dad, we have...a...printer issue,” you managed to get out as Dean began moving his hips back and forth. “Bye!”   
Hanging the phone up, you slapped Dean’s shoulder as he leaned over, giving you a quick kiss. “Dean, that was my Dad!”   
“And you were worried about getting caught, weren’t you? Don’t worry, you can admit it. I felt how hot you were at the idea,” he teased, angling his hips to go even deeper inside you. “But don’t worry. I won’t tell him a thing.”   
Throwing your head back, all thoughts of phone calls left your mind as Dean began rocking his hips back and forth, driving you straight to the biggest orgasm of your life.


	7. The Touch of Steel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somnophilia, Gun Play

The room was dark, exactly as I had expected. Wrinkling my nose at the peeling paint, the grime covering the windows, I stayed in the shadows. I shouldn’t be surprised that she had picked yet another run down hotel, but it drove me crazy. I hated the dirtiness of this horrid little world. The way people didn’t seem to care for their possessions. I took great care of my possessions, even the ones that had gotten away.   
The lock booked no challenge for me. Just a simple deadbolt that slid open with a flick of my fingers. The door creaked as I waved it open, and for a moment I stayed silent, wondering if her hunter’s senses had caught the disturbance. But seconds ticked by, and no movement was heard inside the room.   
I quietly stepped into the room, my polished black shoes making not a sound on the carpet as I shut the door behind me. The curtains barely blocked out the glaring lights, highlighting her in the single, king-sized bed.   
She was laying on her back, the sheets tangled around her hips in the early summer heat. Wearing nothing more than her panties and a cami, she looked enticing. I had been thinking about her ever since I had invaded Dean’s memories.   
I strode closer to the bed, watching her chest rise and fall evenly. She was deeply asleep, the empty whiskey bottle beside the bed no doubt the reason. Which made my plan even more perfect. I would test her out, make sure she was as perfect as Dean thought. If, and only if she was, I would take her with me, turning her into my second hand. My Concubine. She would help turn this world into something worthy. While keeping my inner needs handled as well.   
Sliding off my coat, I grimaced at the grimy comforter halfway off the bed. Knowing that from now on we would be staying in five-star hotels, I carefully knelt down, watching to see if she would wake up.  
This intrigued me, more than I would care to admit. Being able to observe, even run my hand along her skin while she slept. She had no idea it was me, the person she hated the most. By the time she recognized me, she would no doubt be moaning in pleasure.   
Carefully I pulled the sheet down, her slim panties barely covering her mound. Frowning in annoyance, I snapped my fingers, both articles of clothing disappearing immediately. Her skin was smooth as I ran my hands along her calves, feeling the muscles bunching under my touch. She stirred, tossing her head slightly, and with a whisper, I made her fall deeper into her slumber. Smiling, I leaned forward, my lips following my touch, barely brushing against her skin. I was amazed at how soft she was. Her body was much curvier than those I had tested before, her breasts plump and full, her nipples already hardening. Her hips were wide, slight marks on the skin there and on her belly. It intrigued me, how her body could arouse me even with it’s imperfections.   
Her mound was bare, the skin already glistening with her arousal. She moaned in her sleep, her legs falling open, and I brushed my finger against her folds, She had slight marks on her inner thighs as well, and I pressed my lips against them, wondering what had caused these marks of beauty. Brushing my index finger across her soaking lips, I found her little bud of nerves, rubbing circles around it, watching as her eyelids fluttered.   
With my other hand, I reached up, kneading her breast, amazed at how full, how heavy it felt in my hand. She arched her back, moving her breast more fully into my grasp, and I checked for a moment to see if she was still sleeping.   
She settled back down, her tongue darting out to her bottom lip. Moving my hand away, down her stomach, I dipped my head, running my tongue along her folds, her hips lifting off the bed. Turning my attention to her clit, I swirled my tongue around it, pressing one fingertip against her entrance.   
I slid it inside, her arousal guiding my way. Curling it inside, her, I peered up, watching her eyelids fluttering as she fought my hold on her. It was then I had an idea. Standing up, I wiped my finger on the comforter, glancing at the nightstand. Laying there was her precious handgun with his long, gleaming barrel and pearl handle. It fit well in my hand, and I checked to see if it was loaded.   
It was fully loaded, the safety off, and I knew how dangerous my plan was. But if she was going to be by my side, she would have to be ready for things such as this. Moving back to the end of the bed, I released my hold on her. She still slept, but not as deeply.   
Kneeling back down on the hard mattress, I slid the gun up the inside of her leg, the steel cold against her skin. She shifted, her legs tensing up slightly, but still, she slept. Reaching the apex of her thighs, I ran the gun through her folds, watching as her slick glistened on the barrel. It intrigued me, the sight of such a horrific weapon against such a beautiful creature. I wanted, no needed more.   
With the danger of the gun going off, I pressed the barrel against her entrance just as her eyes fluttered open. She glanced down, confused by the sleepiness and arousal flowing through her system. “Dean,” she groaned, throwing her head back as I slid the barrel deeper inside her.   
“Guess again,” I growled low, my erection straining in my pants as I watched the scene unfold in front of me.  
Her entire body froze, clenching around the barrel of the gun as her eyes grew wide. She lifted her head up, staring at me once again. “M...Micheal?” She stuttered, her heart fluttering fast with fear.   
“Correct,” I assured her as my eyes flashed blue. “I’m glad you’re finally awake. I’ve been having so much fun while you were sleeping, but I’m ready to see what you’re capable of now that you’re awake.”


	8. No Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Demon Dean x Reader  
> Warnings: Non-Con, Fuck or Die, Demon Dean, dark

Water splashed on your face, covering your nose and mouth as you came to with a startle. Coughing and sputtering you opened your eyes, blinking away the drops that covered your lashes.   
“There she is,” an eerily familiar voice chuckled, very close in front of you. Dean knelt down so he could be eye level with you. His black eyes creeped you out as he smiled wickedly, running his hand along your cheek. “Sam and I were wondering when you would finally wake up. I got bored, so I took matters in my own hand.”   
Your brain was foggy as you tried to piece together your memories of what had happened. You had gone looking for Dean, finding him in a podunk stripper joint, staring up at a scantily clad bimbo. You had called Sam, who had come running, both of you planning on getting Dean back to the bunker, one way or another. But it seems like your plan hadn’t worked. You could feel your hands growing numb behind your back, tied with some sort of rope. Sam was on the other side of the room, secured to a chair, his head all bloody, his upper body all wrapped with rope. His mouth was covered with duct tape, his eyes wide as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.   
“I was glad you showed up,” Dean said, taking his knife out of his pocket and running it along your arm, sending shivers through your body. You glanced around frantically, trying to find a way out of this mess. No one knew where you were. Cas was out there, sure, but he had no idea you had found Dean. You were on your own. “Those strippers were boring. I need something fresh. And exciting. And I think you could be it.”   
“Dean, please,” you started to beg, but he placed the cold steel against your lips.   
“Save the begging for later,” he said. “I have a proposition for you.”  
Trembling where you were perched on the edge of the bed, you had no idea what his proposition would be. How could you? He was the Demonic version of the greatest hunter the world had ever seen. A Demon who had enjoyed many things in his short existence, some of which you didn’t even want to think about.   
“Don’t you want to hear it?” He asked, his eyes still that inky black, his bottom lip tugged in between his bottom teeth. He had pulled a chair in front of you, leaning back, his legs sprawled.   
“If it means you’ll let us go,” you whispered, making him laugh. His eyes flipped back to his normal forest green. But they were missing the warmth, the spark that was the Dean you knew and cared about.   
“We’ll see about that,” he answered. “Did you know that I always had a thing for you? Always wondered what it would be like to have you writhing under me. How soft and welcoming your body would be. I knew you would take my cock so well. But I was a chicken, scared to make a move. Scared that you would leave me as everyone else had. But guess what? I’m not scared of anything anymore.”  
Your mouth grew dry with each word, your heart racing. “No, please,” you pleaded once again. If it had been Dean, normal Dean, you might have been interested. You had never imagined he would have seen you like that. But Demon Dean? He terrified you.   
“Oh sweetheart, I bet you’ll love it. I think I’ll have you screaming in no time,” he chuckled. “One way or the other.”   
Sam started struggling to get away, his chair rocking back and forth. But Dean had learned well, and you had a feeling Sam wouldn’t be able to get free. A tear trickled down your cheek, and it made Dean smile even wider. “So here is my proposition. If you go along with it, you and Sam can leave this room when we’re done. I promise.”   
“And if I don’t?” You asked.  
He took the knife, twirling it around his fingers before pressing it against your chest, right where your heart lay. “Then you die. Don’t make me happy? Sam dies. Refuse me? You both die. It’s simple. I want to feel that perky little mouth around my cock. And then I want to see exactly how tight and sweet that little pussy of yours is.”  
You had expected it. But hearing the words come from Dean’s lips, the way he licked his lips, you could feel dread settle on your shoulders.   
Sam mumbled incoherently behind Dean, shaking his head frantically. You knew what he would say. That it wasn’t worth it. That you didn’t have to make this choice. But you couldn’t leave it on you like this. If there was a chance that you could save the two of you, and then maybe Dean….well you would have to take it. Even if it meant doing something that you were more than uncomfortable about.   
“You promise? I do those...things, and you’ll let us go?” You asked, your voice shaking.   
Dean nodded, using his finger to cross his heart. “Of course. I was always a man of my word. Just because I’m a Demon doesn’t mean it changes.”   
Sam was shaking his head, but you felt like you had no choice. Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “And Sam? Can we put him in the bathroom, or…”  
“Nope. First of all, I don’t trust him. And second, I think it would do him good. Let him see how a real man does it.”   
Wide-eyed, you stared up at Dean, waiting for him to make him the first move. You were terrified, and you wanted nothing more than to run out the door. But that wasn’t a possibility. “This is going to be so much fun,” he said, clapping his hands together in glee before standing up. Roughly grabbing your hair, he flipped you on your back, your arms complaining as they were bent awkwardly behind your back. He tugged and pushed until he had you exactly where he wanted you with your head hanging over the edge of the bed. With the height of the hotel mattress, you were at the same height as his thick thighs. “Perfect,” he said, and you could only watch as his long fingers undid the buckle of his belt, sliding his jeans down his thighs.   
You could try to flee. Your feet weren’t bound, and you could throw yourself off the bed, run to the door. But he was fast, and you had a feeling he wouldn’t like you trying to leave. It would make it worse on both you and Sam.   
While you were contemplating freedom, he had pulled his slim boxers down his legs as well, stepping out of them as well as his jeans. He was currently running his hand up and down his length, and you gulped. You had heard whispers that Dean was well endowed, and now you knew those rumors were more than true. He was long and thick, probably as thick as your wrist. “Open up,” he ordered, using his other hand to tap your cheek hard. Opening up your mouth, you watched as he slid the head of his cock into your mouth.   
With your hands behind your back, your head tilted down, you could only hang there as he slid farther into your mouth, his girth stretching your mouth so wide that your jaw began to ache.   
“Oh, this is nice,” he mumbled once the tip was back against your throat. You held still, trying to calm your gag reflex, relaxing a little as he pulled back. Suddenly he slammed back inside, sliding down your throat, his balls brushing against your nose. You gagged around him which only made him groan. Planting his hands on either side of you on the bed, he began moving his hips back and forth, fucking into your mouth with a brutal pace. Spit ran down your cheek, dripping on the floor, joining your tears as he used your mouth.   
“I can see the bulge in your throat,” he exclaimed, his long fingers reaching out to wrap around your neck. “You’re taking me so well sweetheart.”   
You could barely see Sam past Dean’s flexing thigh. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes full of fury at his brother for treating you this way. You felt humiliated, being taken this way. Being treated like nothing more than a fuck toy.   
Dean snapped his hips forward, holding you tight enough that you couldn’t breathe as he came with a groan down your throat. You had no choice but to swallow before he pulled away, smiling wickedly. “I shouldn’t have waited so long to try that pretty little mouth out. It was fantastic. So much better than those sluts at the stripper joint.”   
You hoped for a reprieve. Just a little bit of time to recuperate after getting handled so roughly. But you could see Dean was still hard, ready for round two.   
Sitting down in the chair once again, Dean languidly stroked his cock, staring at you, his eyes flashing to black once again. “Come here,” he ordered. You moved to comply, rolling to the edge of the bed, struggling as your shoulders screamed in pain. With no hands to help, you almost fell to the ground, catching yourself and standing up. With a snap of his fingers, your clothes were gone, but the rope was still in place. “Are you ready to sit on your throne?” He teased, moving his hand to show his full length standing proudly at attention. Your face red with shame, you moved forward, standing in front of him, hesitant.   
“You know what to do. You can sit on this cock, take the both of us for a ride. Or I can stand up right now, kill Sam in front of you before wrapping my hand around that pretty little neck, snapping it instantly. Your choice.”   
Gulping, you straddled his hips awkwardly, his cock brushing against your clit. You were ashamed of yourself, how wet you felt yourself getting. You had always imagined sex with Dean, but it had always been gentle and slow. Never with the threat of death overhead. You could feel his cock head brushing against your skin, and a part of you wanted it. To feel that thick girth stretch you open. And you hated that you wanted it.   
Dean grabbed your hips, hard enough to bruise, lifting you up and guiding you over his cock, letting it brush your entrance. With his eyes black he stared at you before slamming you down instantly. You screamed out in pain as he filled you completely to the womb. You were stretched more than you had ever been in your life. “I was right. This is the tightest pussy I’ve ever been in,” he groaned, holding you down so tight you could feel his balls scrunched under your ass. “Now move.”   
Sniffling, you began rocking your hips, closing your eyes, your unwanted arrousal making him slide even deeper. “Ooh Sam, she’s amazing,” Dean groaned. “She’s so tight and warm. And wet. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you sweetheart?”   
You couldn’t look at him. You were sliding up and down, rolling your hips. Trying to do everything to make this go as fast as possible. With your arms tied behind your back, your breasts were pushed up, and Dean leaned down, taking one nipple in his mouth, biting down sharply. Crying out, you clenched around him. “Such a dirty girl,” he whispered, pulling his mouth away, bringing his hand up to wrap around your neck. Squeezing tight, he watched as you struggled to breathe, your movements slowing down. “Don’t you dare stop moving. I want to cum in this sweet little pussy.”   
You rolled your hips, taking him deep inside you once again, feeling him tighten deep inside you and you knew he was close. Squeezing your muscles tight as block dots filled your vision, you felt him shoot thick streams of cum deep into your womb as your lack of oxygen sent you spiraling into darkness.


	9. Purgatory

It had been a long time coming. Days of planning and worrying, hoping that you weren't too late. Your feet had walked countless miles, back and forth in different hotel rooms as you worried about Dean.

He had been in Purgatory for 46 days now. 46 days and 13 hours. Each minute, each hour you wasted was another moment he was down there. And who knew what he was going through.

But now you had finally found a way to save him. A rogue reaper that was willing to show you a door to Purgatory in exchange for an ancient relic. Sam had left, knowing exactly where the relic was located, leaving you to sit and wait. The worst job in the world.

Finally, you sat down with a sigh, a plume of dust wafting around you from the faded brown comforter. This was one of the worst hotels you had picked, but it was close to the meetup spot, and little comforts didn't matter to you right now. Placing your face in your hands, you took a deep calming breath, Dean's pine green eyes haunting your every thought.

The loud rumble of Dean's Impala echoed through the thin hotel walls, shutting off moments before Sam strode through the door, a paper bag in his hand. "I've got it!" He exclaimed a triumph smile on his face, something neither of you had done very often lately. 

You stood up, grabbing your bag from the table. "What are we waiting for? Let's get Dean back!"

The moment you stepped into that smelly alley, with overflowing trashcans and graffiti lining the walls, a man appeared from the shadows. "Took you long enough," he muttered, shrinking into his black trench coat, glancing warily around to make sure you hadn't been followed. But the second his eyes landed on the bag in Sam's hand, they lit up with glee.

"We have the item. Now it's time for you to fulfill your part," Sam grumbled, holding the bag up enticingly. "Wheres the entrance?"

"See, there's the problem," the Reaper muttered. "I can only send one of you through. The other stays back. With me."

"Hell no!" Sam exclaimed. "That wasn't the deal!"

The Reaper shrugged, tucking his hands in his pockets. He leaned back against the wall, his greasy black hair falling in front of his left eye. You didn't trust this man, and you were slightly glad one of you would be staying behind to make sure nothing shady went down. "Things have changed. Our powers are weak, and it takes a lot to keep the door opened long enough to send one human through."

"Sam," you started, laying your hand on his arm. "It's better than nothing. We need to take it."

His jaw was clenched tight, not happy with how things were going down. And you didn't blame him. But you also knew you would do anything to get Dean back. 

"I'll go," Sam suggested, and the Reaper stood up, ready to open the door. 

"Sam, please be careful," you whispered, wishing you were the one who was going. But you knew this was the smart choice. Sam was stronger, more able to take care of himself in the wild unknown.

"This window will be open for 2 hours Earth time," the Reaper exclaimed. "That will be 2 days Purgatory time. When you're ready to come back, find the slit in the rock, and squeeze this."

He held out a small stone, blue tunes covering almost every spare surface.

Sam handed you the artifact before reaching for the stone. You watched as it slid from the Reapers hand, falling through Sam's finger. Instinctively, you reached down, grasping it in your hand. Almost instantly you felt the pull of the stone. The hair on the back of your neck stood up, your eyes going wide as you stared up at Sam.

"Y/N, give it to me," Sam orders, but you couldn't move. Your body was frozen, your heart racing as the scene around you grew fuzzy. As quick as it turned blurry, it cleared. No longer could you see the graffiti walls and disgusting trash cans. The sun was no longer shining down. Trees, empty of leaves surrounded you, their branches reaching creepily towards you. Red eyes peered at you through the bushes. 

Gone was the rotting dumpster smell. This place smelled slightly of brimstone, but mostly of Earth and blood. It tickled your nostrils, and you covered your nose so you wouldn't sneeze.

You had no idea where to go from here. This place was huge. The shadows crept in, and the idea of what hid below had your heart racing. 

Thank goodness you still had the blade hidden in your boots. It wasn't much, but you felt better knowing it was there.

Standing there wasn't going to do much good. Your clock was ticking, and you were looking for a needle in a haystack.

The slight light that had filtered through the trees slowly faded away as you traversed the barren forest, leaving your going treacherous. Without a light to guide the way, you finally stopped by a large tree. 

You could hear monsters prowling around, growling and scratching their claws against the trees. Fights broke out around you, harsh cries echoing in the night. Wrapping your arms around your knees, you huddled as close to the tree as you could, shivering in the cool air.

You must have dozed off sometime in the early morning. Your head brushed back against the rough bark. Your blade lay on the ground beside you. Your entire body ached, but at least there was a smokey light brightening up the area.

Your bones creaking, you stood up, stretching for a moment before you bent down to pick up your blade. As your fingertips brushed against the handle, you were tackled from behind, slammed down onto the ground, the bushes jabbing into your tender skin.

You opened your mouth to scream, but a dirty hand covered your mouth, muffling any sound you made.

Thrashing your body about, you tried to get out from underneath the larger figure holding you down. It wasn't until familiar green eyes peered down at you that you stopped moving. "Y/N?" Dean whispered. 

You could have cried you were so happy to see him again. With little room to move, you threw your arms around him, holding him tight. "Dean, I can't believe it!" You exclaimed, but he pressed his finger to your lips, silencing you. He jerked his head towards the clearing, and you could see a couple of large black dogs sniffing where you had just been. 

“Hell hounds?” You mouthed, seeing the myths for the first time. Dean nodded, both of you quietly watching the hell hounds search the area, hoping they would move on. Seconds turned into minutes, Dean’s body heavy on top of your smaller frame. When you had finally thought they were moving on, bright red eyes flashed in front of you. You screamed, the rest of the Hell Hounds immediately standing on guard. 

Dean moved in a flash, taking this wicked looking blade from the ground beside him, slicing through the first Hell Hound. You were on your feet right after him, a Hell Hound right on your feet. Racing around the tree, you picked up your blade, turning and stabbing the Hell Hound right in the chest. Its teeth nicked your skin, but you pushed the blade in deeper, and the Hell Hound dropped to the ground. 

Adrenaline pumped through your system as you slid the blade from the Hell Hound, turning to see Dean facing the last two with his wicked looking weapon. With one swing of the blade Dean sent the other two scurrying away from the clearing. 

His chest heaving, Dean turned to face you, and you got your first good look at him. He was wearing a scuffed leather jacket, one that was stained and ripped in places. His jeans were no longer blue, tainted with blood, dirt, and grime. His hair lay messy, his cheeks covered in grime and blood. He looked lean and savage, and hotter than you had ever seen him before. 

Without thinking, you dropped your blade to the ground. Dean’s eyes watched you warily as you strode forward, jumping into his arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you placed both hands on his cheeks, your lips rough against his.

Dean seemed surprised at first, balancing himself so the two of you didn’t topple to the ground. But it was only seconds later he had your back pressed up against the tree. “God I’ve missed you,” he breathed against your lips. “Less talking,” you ordered, pushing at his leather jacket. “I need you. Need this.” 

Dean stepped back, letting you slid down the rough bark of the tree, but you didn’t feel that. You wanted the weight of him back against you, and you quickly helped him shed his coat before he was pressed up against you once again. With his chapped lips against yours, his hand slid between your bodies, unbuttoning your jeans. 

With a growl Dean pushed your jeans down around your ankles, his hand moving back up to cup you through your panties. “Y/N..,” he stammered, the words low, almost a growl. “It’s been so long.” 

You reached around, grasping the tight globes of his ass, pulling his growing erection against you, wishing there wasn’t clothing in the way. “I need you. Now,” you assured him. 

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand rubbing you through your underwear, he undid his belt buckle. He didn’t even bother sliding his jeans down. With a groan, he had his impressive girth in his fist, while his other hand ripped open your underwear. Rubbing his tip through your folds, his hooded eyes searched for yours before he slammed deep inside with one snap of his hips. You bit your lip, the stretch almost painful. Dean held his hips still for only a moment before he couldn’t stand it anymore.

You were braced against the rough bark of the tree, your legs and arms getting scraped, but you didn’t notice. Dean’s hips held you on your tiptoes, his mouth finding that sensitive spot behind your ear. 

It was rough, hard and fast. Something you couldn’t even classify as lovemaking. But it was what you both needed. This connection. Showing that you had found each other again. His skin against yours. You could feel him deep inside you, warm and smooth, pounding into you almost to the point of pain. You tilted your head back, your eyes closed, knowing that you shouldn’t be doing this. There could be monsters lurking around, but that almost made the moment hotter. Your hips moved to meet his, your groans muffled as his mouth captured yours once again. Dean’s hand slid down, brushing across your breast before you felt his thumb brushing against your clit. That’s all it took for you to fall apart. 

Your scream was muffled by his mouth. Your knees shook, but he held you up, his body stiffening as he came with a groan, emptying deep inside you. Breathing heavily, you opened your eyes to find his watching you closely. “That was…,” he mumbled, his breaths short. 

“Amazing,” you finished for him. “But risky. We need to get out of here.” 

Dean nodded, stepping away from you. Immediately you missed the weight of him against you, the feel of him inside you and Monsters be damned, you wanted him again. Forcing yourself to move, you winced at the scratches on your skin as you pulled your jeans up. Dean tucked himself back in, picking up his wicked-looking weapon once again. “Now what? Do we click our ruby heels together?” 

That’s when you remembered the rock. Hoping you hadn’t lost it, you reached inside your pocket, relieved to feel it there still. As soon as you touched it, you could feel the familiar pull. “Dean!” You exclaimed, grabbing his hand. 

The surrounding area blurred, spinning, and you did everything in your power to make sure that you held onto Dean’s hand. You weren’t going to lose him again. 

Seconds later you fell to the ground, rough pavement this time instead of the dirt of the forest. Dean landed beside you, his hand still grasped in yours. “Dean!” Sam exclaimed, and you looked up to see Sam standing beside the Reaper. 

Sam raced over, helping Dean to his feet, pulling him into a hug. You stood up, eyeing the Reaper warily, realizing that you must have lost the artifact in your travels. “If this is all, I’m going now,” the Reaper announced, and it was then you saw the bag in his hand. “I made sure this did not make it through the door.”

You didn’t even give the Reaper a second glance. Dean had pulled you to his side, while the two of you followed Sam out of the alley. “How about we book our own room?” Dean suggested. “This time we can go a little slower.”

“I’d like that,” you answered, a huge smile on your face. Everything was right for the moment. You had Dean back, and that’s all that mattered.


	10. Wagon Ride

“Oh, a pumpkin patch!” You exclaimed, literally hopping up and down in the passenger seat. “Sam, I wonder if it’s still open?”   
Sam glanced down at his watch before shaking his head. “Y/N, it’s only a half an hour until the sunsets. I don’t think they’ll let anyone in.”   
You couldn’t help but pout. It had been ages since you had been to a pumpkin patch, and while you and Sam were out relaxing, it seemed like the perfect thing to do. “Can we try?”  
He glanced over at you, sighing at the look you were giving him. “Yeah, we can try.”   
It wasn’t even a mile before he was pulling his beat-up pick up onto the side of the road and down a gravel driveway. Cornfields lined both sides of the road, before opening up into a parking lot and a large field full of pumpkins. A small shack stood beside the parking lot, a tired man sitting inside, reading the paper. Not another car was in sight, and you fretted that you were too late.   
With Sam leading the way, you went up to the shack’s window. “Excuse me, but are you still open?”   
“That’s why I’m sitting here,” the man muttered. “But only for ten more minutes.”   
You tugged on Sam’s sleeve, feeling like an excited school girl. But you didn’t care. “Sam, that’s plenty of time.”   
The man stood up, rolling his shoulders before pulling on his denim coat. “How about this? Pay me a nice tip, and I’ll let you have as much time as you want. Long as you don’t destroy my pumpkins.”   
You nodded as Sam took a fifty from his pocket. Your eyes widened, but not as much as the man’s. “Hell, for this, do whatever you want. It’s almost Halloween anyways.”   
He pocketed the fifty and left the booth. Both of you watched him head back to the house down the canal road, leaving you and Sam free range of the Pumpkin Patch.  
You had already taken stock of the pumpkin patch, and you couldn’t wait to walk through. Taking Sam’s hand in your own, you pulled him to the nearest attraction first. It was the cheesy photo booths, and you wanted a picture of Sam dressed up as a Farmer before the sun went down too far.   
“Oh no, I’m not going to do this,” Sam started to argue, but you pushed him towards it. “Please?”   
He sighed, but still went ahead and crouched down so you could snap a picture.   
“Here, my turn!” You exclaimed, standing behind the buxom waitress one, making what you considered a hilarious come hither stare. Sam snapped your picture, but barely had time to put his phone down before you were taking his hand in yours, pulling him along again.   
You ignored the entrance to the corn maze, wishing you had more time to enjoy everything. But the weather was perfect, barely a nip in the air. The sun was setting over the cornfields, a kaleidoscope of oranges and blues, pinks and purples. It was absolutely stunning.  
“Y/N,” Sam spoke up from behind you, and just as you turned he snapped a picture.   
“What was that for?”   
His dimples as he smiled were the only answer you were going to get. Taking your hand in his, he pulled you farther into the pumpkin patch. About halfway down was an old wagon, decorated with pumpkins, scarecrows, leaves all around, and Sam hoisted you up in the back. Even up that high, you were only eye level with him, and you got an amazing glimpse of his hazel eyes.   
Without even thinking about it, you leaned forward, your lips ghosting against his, your hand brushing the silky locks back from his face.   
“What was that for?” He asked, his teeth working his bottom lip as he fit himself between your legs.   
“Because I could,” you whispered. “Sam, I know we’ve been friends for a long time, but I’ve wanted something more. For quite some time.”   
He shuffled then, his hand nervously brushing his hair back. “Y/N, you know in this life relationships never work out.”  
“But our friendship has,” you argued. “And why can’t we be happy? We do so much for other people, why can’t we have a little slice of heaven?”   
“Can we start slow,” he finally asked. “Y/N, I really enjoy our time together, but all of my relationships have…,”  
You stopped him from continuing on by grabbing the collar of his flannel shirt, pulling him tight against you. “Sam, just shut up before you ruin my mood. The sky is beautiful, and I love being out here with you. No kiss me.”   
His eyes widened slightly, but you took matters another step further. Tangling your hand in his silky locks, you pulled him closer until his lips were barely a breath away from yours. “I know you want to.”   
Sam finally had enough. Closing the last little bit of space, he wrapped his hand roughly around the back of your neck, smashing your lips to his. His body molded against yours, the rough denim of his jeans pressing straight into your core.   
The wagon creaked and groaned as Sam tried to swallow you whole. His teeth nipped and tugged at your lip. His free hand was sliding under your sweatshirt, warm against your bare skin. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he breathed heavy as he pulled away.   
“Then why didn’t you?” You asked, your hands wandering down his hips, round to his taut butt.   
“Because I didn’t want anything to happen to you,” he groaned, his hips moving forward to rub against you, driving you wild. “Women I care for seem to…,”  
“I don’t care,” you answered, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling his lips back to yours.   
Well, his lips devoured yours, you reached between your bodies, undoing his belt buckle. “Sam,” you moaned against his lips.   
“Y/N, we’re out in the middle of a pumpkin patch!” Sam groaned as you finally wrapped your hand around his length.  
“So?”   
“We could be seen,” he closed his eyes, leaning his head back as you stroked as much of him as you could while his jeans were still up.   
“Then I suggest you hurry up and fuck me.”  
Instead of arguing Sam stepped back, helping you undo your jeans. He slid them and your underwear down to your knees, before undoing his zipper. The wood was rough against your skin, and you prayed you wouldn’t get slivers in your ass. But Sam planned ahead, taking his flannel off, holding you up to place it down before he was pressed up against you once more.   
“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes hooded with lust. You nodded, and with a moan, Sam lined himself up to your entrance, sliding in easily.  
Sam’s pace was fast and hard, the wagon creaking underneath your movements. You held on to his shoulders as his hips pounded against yours, your head was thrown back in ecstasy.   
You had always imagined sex with Sam would be almost overwhelming, and you were right. You lost a sense of where you were, what time it was. Nothing mattered but the feel of him inside you, the feel of him against you overrode everything else.   
You could feel Sam’s movement turning erratic, his hand reaching down to brush against your bundles of nerves. With the cool night air around you, the warmth of him against and inside you, you let go, leaning back against the straw bale, coming undone in his arms.   
“That was…,” Sam stuttered, slipping away from you to tuck himself in his jeans before helping you down. Your legs were like jelly, and you were thankful for Sam’s grip on your arm.   
“A good start to a friend with benefits relationship,” you answered, hoping that someday it could become something more.


	11. Camp Counselor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Misha x Reader

The bench under your butt was hard and unyielding, but you didn’t notice. Your oatmeal was congealing on your spoon, your coffee growing cold. But none of that caught your attention. It was a certain blue-eyed older man that had you caught under a spell, and he had no idea.

“Earth to Y/N,” your bunk buddy Tricia exclaimed as she sat down next to you. “What’s got your attention?”

Shaking your head, you turned to face her, blushing slightly. “Nothing, just daydreaming.”

She smiled knowingly. “Sure. It has nothing to do with the blue-eyed camp leader of ours. Nothing at all.”

You glanced around, checking to make sure no one heard her. “Tricia! What if he heard you?”

Tricia took a bite of her oatmeal, wincing at the blandness. “Then maybe you and he can head back to that cabin of his and get this infatuation out of your mind. You’re going to college in a week Y/N! He’s going to be long gone by then.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But he’s just so dreamy.”

You gave up on your food. Taking your tray to the kitchen, you rinsed it off before deciding to head out for the day. It was the last day of camp. Tomorrow all the little kids under your care would be heading back to their parents, and you would be heading home to pack for your sophomore year at college.

“Morning Y/N,” Misha, the camp leader spoke up as you rounded the corner. The man you had been staring at for the past ten minutes.

“M...morning,” you stuttered, turning bright red as he patted the bench beside them. He was handsome, in a rugged way. With his plump, cracked lips, and his strong chin. He was at least five years older than you, but you weren’t exactly sure how old he was.

“Y/N, I wanted to talk with you,” he started once you sat down. “How did you think this summer went?”

“I think it went well,” you mumbled, glancing at him quickly before glancing down again.

“I think it did too,” he agreed. “Especially because you were here. Y/N, don’t think I didn’t notice how much you did for this camp. You were amazing.”

You blushed. “Thanks, but I just did my job.”

He stood up, patting you on your back. “Y/N, you did much more than your job. And I hope that you felt comfortable coming to me for anything. Anything at all.”

You looked into his blue eyes, wondering if you were just imagining things. Or maybe your camp leader was just as into you as you were into him. “Thanks, Misha.”

“No problem. And Y/N, come find me at the bonfire tonight.” With those words, he headed out to the door, ringing the bell to announce the start of the day. It was going to be a busy day. A hike, then packing before a bonfire with hot dogs and smores. The campers would head to bed, leaving the counselours with another hour or two to hang out before the bonfire would be extinguished, signaling the end of the camp.

The day passed as quickly as you had imagined. You and Tricia led your age group of kids on a hike to the nearby waterfall, enjoying the cool water as you splashed around in the shallows. Afterward, you had helped the campers back up their belongings, making sure they didn’t forget any of their artwork or the socks that seemed to be scattered around everywhere.

As the sun started to settle, you could feel your nerves rise. The bonfire was being built as you spoke, and you were anxious about seeing Misha again.

“Y/N, once again, you seem lost in thought. Is it our blue-eyed leader again,” Tricia teased as she carried a tray full of hotdogs to the picnic tables. Your hands were full of graham crackers and marshmallows.

“Tricia, if I tell you something, you can’t make a big deal out of it,” you whispered. “But Misha, he seemed to want to meet up during the bonfire tonight.”

She squealed, almost dropping her tray. “Y/N, I knew he had a thing for you! That’s why he always gave you jobs close to him.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s because I’m one of the senior counselors,” you argued, but she just chuckled.

The bonfire started, and all thoughts of Misha were pushed from your mind as you fed all the hungry campers. He was on the other side of the bonfire, joking with some of the counselors, looking over at you every now and then.

It was almost ten o’clock by the time you had all your campers back in the cabin and tucked into their beds. After making them promise to stay in bed, you headed back out, Tricia by your side. “Y/N, go get him,” Tricia teased before heading over to Taylor, the counselor she had been eyeing all summer.

You saw Misha standing by himself, away from the rest of the group, almost completely swallowed by shadows. “Hey Misha,” you spoke awkwardly, your boots making no sound in the soft dirt.

“I was wondering when you would show back up,” he turned to face you, blocking your view of the bonfire. “I couldn’t help but wonder if I scared you off.”

Your mouth suddenly dry, you shook your head. “No, just unruly campers.”

“Good, good,” he answered, his eyes searching your face, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “And did you enjoy the bonfire?”

Instead of answering, you nodded. “Y/N, I…, I hope you had fun this summer.”

You nodded again, wondering if he was just as nervous as you were. “Good. And did you get everything done that you wanted to?”

“Misha, I don’t know how to answer that.”

He ran his finger down his mouth, taking in a deep breath. “Sorry, I’ve just..I’ve been trying to get up the nerve for days, and now that the camp is almost over, I keep kicking myself.”

He took a step closer. “Misha…,”

“Y/N, before I take this any farther, how old are you?”

“20,” you answered, butterflies swarming your stomach. “But Misha, what does that have to do with anything?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but instead closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to cup the back of your neck, gently pressing his lips to yours. You hadn’t expected the move, and you stood there stiffly, your lips unmoving beneath his.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered when he pulled back. “I know I shouldn’t have done that, but I’ve wanted to for so long.”

You were trying to find the words to say when someone called Misha’s name. He smiled apologetically before jogging back to the bonfire, leaving you in the dark, your mind swirling. Misha liked you, as much as you liked him, and you had a choice to make. You could pretend the kiss never happened. You were leaving in the morning anyway. Or you could give in to your desires, and make this camp one you would never forget.

You found yourself moving towards Misha’s cabin, your legs making the decision for you. He was still talking to his friends, but you knew his cabin would probably be unlocked. Stepping inside, you found the light switch, turning the lights on.

Misha’s cabin was much cleaner than you had expected. His suitcases were all packed, sitting on the dresser. His bed was made, everything put in its rightful place.

You could feel the nerves starting to get the better of you, and you turned back to the door when it opened and Misha stepped inside. “Y/N. I was hoping you would be here.”

“I wasn’t sure, but I..,” you stuttered, before Misha’s body was pressed against your own, his hands tangled in your hair as his lips moved against yours. Your hands slid down, grasping at the waistband of his jeans, pulling him closer.

When your lungs felt like they would burst, Misha pulled away, both of your breathing heavily. “Clothes off,” he ordered, his shirt already flying over his head, showing off his toned upper body as he closed the blinds. “On the bed.”

You were grateful that he had taken over, and you hurried to comply. You were dressed simply in your camp shirt and knit shorts, and they landed in a pile by the bed, leaving you in your sports bra and panties. Nervously, you pulled the bra over your head, but you were too unsure to slip out of your panties.

“Everything,” he ordered, already down to his boxers, his erection outlined in the lime green fabric. Seeing the crazy boxer took away some of your anxiety, and you slipped out of your panties before climbing on the bed.

While you decided whether you should sit or lay down, Misha had moved over, pushing against your shoulder until you laid down. “Beautiful. You are just stunning Y/N.” Misha exclaimed, making you blush. You had never really considered yourself beautiful, being what your grandmother loved to call plump.

Misha ran his hand along your skin, bringing goosebumps to the surface. You watched as his callused fingers trailed against your hip bone before moving back up to brush against your lip. “I want to taste you. All of you.”

Gulping, you gripped the quilt as his head moved down, his dry lips rough against your breast. His free hand kneaded your other breast, tugging at your nipple until it pebbled.

You squirmed against the quilt as Misha paid homage to your body, fulfilling his promise to taste every part of you. His lips slid across your skin, his thumbs circling your nipples as he settled in between your legs, his shaggy hair brushing against your inner thighs. He smiled up at you before he dipped his head, tasting your very corse.

When you couldn’t handle his attention anymore, you tugged at his hair, moving him up until his hips were pressed against yours. “Please Misha,” you begged, tugging at the waistband of his boxers. Grunting, he slipped them down, barely getting them down over his cheeks before he was settling back between your thighs. His thick head lined up against your entrance. Reaching out, he grasped your hand before he eased his hips forward, slowly sinking into your heat.

Biting your bottom lip, your hips rose to meet his, moaning when he was fully sheathed inside you. His head was thrown back, his hip bones more prominent than before he began moving his hips slowly. Your instinct took over, your hips moving to meet his, your breaths coming short and fast. He was heavy and thick inside you, stretching your walls as he set up a rhythm.

Grabbing your hips, he pulled you to the end of the bed, planting his feet on the floor, giving himself more leverage as his movements became faster, more erratic. His grip was bruising as his lips crushed against yours. All the sensations were too much, and you came with a cry into his mouth.

As you slowly came down, Misha snapped his hips faster, before he came with a grunt, his hipbones pressed tight against you.

Once both of you could finally breathe, Misha slipped into the bathroom, taking a washcloth and gently wiping you clean before pulling you under the comforters. “Why didn’t we do that sooner?” He asked, holding you tight against his bare chest, running his hand up and down your arm.

“I wish we had,” you sighed.

Misha pushed you down onto your back, smiling wickedly. “Well, at least we have all night.”


	12. Whatever You Say

“No, cut!” Jensen called out, his voice full of aggravation. It was at least the 6th time he had called cut, not happy with the way the scene was going.   
Relaxing your shoulders, you stayed on your mark, knowing that he would make his demands before heading back behind the camera.   
Sure enough, he came striding around, his long, jean clad legs eating up the distance between him and you. His henley had come unbuttoned, his hat turned backwards. And you couldn’t help the shiver of anticipation that slid down your spine as you waited for his direction.  
“Y/N, what are you doing?” He asked, his jaw ticking in annoyance. “Aren’t you listening to a word I’m saying?”  
You didn’t want to admit that you hadn’t been. You had been too caught up in the way he took control, demanding that things be done a certain way. It had ignited this spark in you that you didn’t even realize you had. And you hated standing here, with people watching when you wanted nothing more than to take Jensen back to his trailer.   
“Y/N!” Jensen exclaimed.   
“I’m sorry, I was distracted,” you answered, your tongue darting out to your bottom lip, his eyes catching the movement.   
“You’ve been distracted all day,” he muttered, fixing his ball cap. “Let’s take a break, maybe you’ll be ready to film when we come back. Be back in an hour everyone! Ready to work!”   
You hurried off the set, thankful for the break, hoping that some time to yourself would calm yourself down. You would have tried a cold shower, but the makeup department would have hated you for that.   
Your trailer was on the other side of Jensen’s. It was small and cozy, and you often found yourself relaxing in there in front of the fire. Stepping inside, you pressed the button, turning on the fake flames before pulling a cold bottle of water from the fridge. Taking a long drink, you tried to ignore the heat pooling in your lower abdomen.  
Seeing Jensen all bossy and assertive had given you all sorts of ideas. The two of you had been a couple for almost a year, and while your sex life was anything but stale, you hadn’t ventured past the normal lovemaking.   
“Y/N, what the hell was that?” Jensen asked as he barged into your trailer. You could see how tight his jaw was, and you knew he was not happy with you.   
“It’s all your fault!” You exclaimed. “You were so freaking hot, being there with your backward ball cap, and bossy attitude. I couldn’t help but think…,”  
“Think what?” His voice went lower as he stepped closer to you, and you knew you had to take a chance. You still had almost an hour left before you were due back on set, and if you didn’t make a move now, you didn’t think you would ever be brave enough again.  
“I couldn’t help but think that I wanted you to...to take control right now. Over me,” You finished, blushing slightly.   
He seemed slightly taken back, and you wondered if you had made a mistake. But then a smile slowly filtered on his face, full of promise, full of temptation. “You want to play that way?”  
Your heart racing, you nodded. “Yes...Daddy.”  
You had never expected to say those words. Never in this context. But it seemed to fit the mood, and Jensen’s nostrils flared, his hands clenched tightly in fists at his side. “Good girl. Why don’t you start by slipping out of those clothes. Don’t want to get your work clothes dirty.”   
Of course, your character wore layers, much like everyone on Supernatural. First came the leather jacket, then the flannel shirt, leaving you in a plain black tank top, jeans and your boots. Bending down, you started to unlace your boots when you felt Jensen come up behind you, his hands holding tight to your hips. “I love this view,” he said, pulling you back against him, his erection straining against his jeans. “Maybe I should just pull your jeans down and fuck you like this.”  
“You’re the boss,” you whispered, not moving, letting him make all the moves.   
“Shoes off,” he insisted, stepping back, leaving you disappointed. Your boots came off, your jeans quickly following, getting folded nicely and placed on the counter. Jensen reached over, making sure your door was locked before he sank down on your couch, spreading his legs. “Come here.”   
You started to walk over, but he pointed to the floor. Getting down on your hands and knees, you waited for his next direction. Patting his thighs, he beckoned you closer. “Why don’t you see how excited you’ve made me.”   
Licking your bottom lip, you undid the buttons of his jeans. He helped you pull his jeans and boxers down, freeing his impressive length. “Good girl,” he praised. “Now suck.”   
You had never imagined you would be this hot with getting ordered around, but you were dripping wet, ready to do whatever he asked. Wrapping your hand around the base, you bent down, barely taking the tip of him into your mouth. “I didn’t ask you to tease. You’ve been doing it all damn day,” he muttered. “Now what did I ask you to do?”   
“Suck,” you mumbled around him, your eyes peering up to see his green ones full of lust.   
“Then get to it.”  
“Yes Daddy,” you muttered, feeling him twitch in your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, you slid down until you felt him pressing against your neck. Breathing through your mouth, you let him take your hair, guiding you up and down on his cock. Running your tongue along the vein underneath, you tried controlling your gag reflex, letting him push you past your comfort zone. “That’s my girl,” he praised you, pressing you down until your nose touched his skin. “Such a good cock sucker.”  
The dirty words had never been something you had used in the bedroom, but they had you squirming on your knees, needing something to ease the ache between your legs. “As much as I’m loving this, we don’t have enough time for games,” Jensen sighed before he pulled you off of him. Taking a deep breath, you knelt back on your knees, waiting for his next directive.   
“Come have a seat,” he ordered, patting his thighs. “But first, take those panties off.”  
Sliding off your black lace bikinis, you straddled Jensen’s thighs, feeling his erection brushing against your folds. “Ready to go for a ride?” He asked, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.   
Nodding, you reached down, taking his cock in your hand, lining it up with your entrance. With your gaze caught in his, you sank down, sheathing him fulling inside you, filling you to the brim.  
Groaning, you rocked your hips, loving the feel of him inside you, easing some of that ache.   
“Get riding,” he insisted. “We don’t have much time.”  
Arching your back and bracing your knees, you began rocking your hips. Back and forth, rubbing your clit against his pelvis bone. Never moving up, keeping him sheathed deep inside you.  
Jensen’s hands had reached down, holding tight to your hips, no doubt leaving bruises. He helped set the pace, lifting you up before bringing you back down hard enough it was almost pain like pleasure. His eyes were closed, his head tipped back as you drove both of you crazy. You could feel him twitching inside you, and you clamped down hard, your folds tight against his skin. “Oh fuck!” He exclaimed, his hips arching off the couch as he spurted deep inside you, bringing on your own climax.   
Breathing heavily, you let him pull you off his lap, cuddling against his side. You only had twenty minutes before you were due back on set, but you weren’t sure your legs would hold you up to make the walk back. “I don’t know what the hell brought that on, but I liked it.”   
“You were being bossy, and it was hot,” You exclaimed. “All I could think about was you bossing me about in the bedroom. I never realized we would both enjoy it.”  
“I enjoyed it. A lot,” he answered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Maybe we can explore it a little more tonight?”  
“I’d like that,” you yawned.   
Standing up, Jensen fixed his jeans. “And hopefully now, you can concentrate on work.”  
He tossed your clothes towards you. “I’m not so sure about that,” you admitted. “Not with the promise of tonight to look forward to.”


End file.
